


Grindin' On That Wood

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Bottom Steve, Come Sharing, Cuddling, Episode Related, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Top Danny, boys waiting on the other one to figure it out before they make a move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 06:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8478832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: Steve gets spun around and all of a sudden, he’s pinned to the trunk of the Marquis, Danny’s body pressed up against his and fuck, holy fuck he’s pulling Steve’s face towards his and-“Just give me two seconds and then you can punch me if you want, but I gotta try and do something about that mopey-ass look on your face.”Steve didn’t hear a word he said, because his blood is rushing in his ears and Danny is fucking kissing him like his life goddamn depends on it. Set immediately after episode 1x09





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't actually planned to write this fic, nor to write it so quickly. There's so much subtext in this episode that I couldn't just let it be, especially since there's a chance for bonding and taking care of each other written write into fucking canon here. This is a completely different continuity/situation from my other McDanno fics, so no prior reading is required.
> 
> I still stand by Steve McGarrett being the bottomiest bottom, however. Nothing will ever be able to change my mind on that one B)
> 
> I'm also not really that sorry about this not being slow burny/long enough - but I don't have the time or patience to write 20k words just for my OTP to fucking hold hands. Ick.
> 
> Oh and my apologies to Beyonce for lifting that title, but home repairs, hot guys, dick metaphors - way too good of a chance to pass on.

            Steve doesn’t actually breathe relief until he hears the steadily rising roar of Pak’s jet clawing at the humid air, the backwash felt even at their distance from the runway.  They haven’t quite made it out of the airfield yet, still in the car while they check in with whatever necessary contacts they have to.  Danny’s even quiet, for once.  Maybe he knows just how rough a couple of days Steve’s had.  First being assigned to help protect a dictator, Nick’s betrayal, having his home torn to pieces without remorse after years of not actually living in it – yeah, Steve’s beat.  Mentally, physically, emotionally. 

            Even as the turbofans of the jet start to recede in the distance, he’s still wanting to hear noise.  Sound of any sort, really.  Quiet means he’s going to think, and even with the promise of cold Longboards he’s still not super hot on the idea.  He doesn’t even want to drink to get drunk, just… to fill time.  Maybe some of the void that’s opened up in him all of a sudden.  Dad’s death is still fresh, way too fresh.  Seing bullets holes put in the walls of the house hadn’t helped, either and Danny, man, Danny had been there, helping him defend it.

            That’s a whole different can of worms.

            “Hey, look what I found.”  Danny’s triumphant little grin upon opening the trunk of the Camaro makes Steve’s insides start to thaw a little.  “Looks like you _can_ pay for drinks there babe.”  Danny presents it to him with a flourish, and Steve snatches it with a little quirk of his lips.  He’s infuriating – but he’s vibrant.  Mouthy.  _Noisy._ Steve needs that right now, needs Danny to be Danny and talk about whatever the hell he wants.

            “To be fair, I knew where I had left it.  I was just trusting you to _not_ make sure all of our shit was secure before moving.”  Seeing as how the car technically belongs to the state of Hawaii, the less damage it receives the better – a point Danny likes to make every so often.  “And since you already have the key…”

            “I’ll drive, because you’ve had enough excitement.  I’ll even let you pick the music.”  Danny winks and goes to the driver’s door, his gait eager.  Steve wonders if it’s because this case is over or if it’s the prospect of cold beer.  Hell, both of those are perfectly good reasons Steve can get behind too.  More than that, he gets to drink with Danny.  His partner, friend…

            That itching part of his psyche that keeps telling Steve to _just kiss him already_ is a little louder in the face of being worn down, and Steve has to bite the inside of his cheek to shut himself up.  Danny’s too caught up starting the car to pay much mind to Steve, so he lets himself have his little moment, absolutely not watching Danny’s sure hand put the car in gear and then take up easy command on the steering wheel.  Short he might be but… Steve’s sure he could move him around if he wanted.  He’s watched him throw enough punches by now that pound for pound, the strength in his body is astonishing.

            “You’re getting a little quiet on me there, Steve.  Anything you want to spill, office gossip, sports predictions, how your garden is?  Any of that?”  Danny’s not looking at him but being talked at is enough.  Steve just lets the sound of his voice wash over him, warm and comforting in a mildly irritating sort of way.

            “Unless you’ve suddenly conjured a bunch of gnomes to plant and maintain one, I’d say my garden isn’t doin’ so well – and what gossip?  There are literally four people who work there Danny, you and me included.  Why, you spreading rumors about yourself?”

            “And there he is, ladies and gentleman, fresh out of his own mind and constipated emotions.”  Danny’s shit-eating grin makes Steve chuckle.  He’s incredible, truly  - but it’s not like he can let Danny know he thinks that.  That’d be giving him way too much of an advantage.

            “Look, just because I don’t say everything on my mind doesn’t mean my emotions are _constipated._ ”  Steve leans his elbow on the window and rolls his sleeve up a little more, letting the warm sunlight hit his skin.  “Better that than diarrhea of the mouth anyway.”

            “Ugh, that’s such a nasty metaphor.”  Danny’s face crinkles into an expression of disgust, soon broken by another smile.  “And you know you can talk to me, alright?  It’s what partners do.  You don’t just sit next to a guy for hours and hours on end in a car and _not_ share just a little bit, alright?  Or has your stoic/silent SEAL training still got too strong a hold on you?”

            “I think you can thank that training for saving our asses, oh, several times now.  And you really think that after long endurance missions we felt like sharing what we wrote down in our dream journals?”

            “Yeah, mine’s pink with a fuzzy cover, actually.”

            They both laugh, and it’s honestly the first time Steve’s done that in a long, long time.  It makes his muscles feel light, like they haven’t been used for that purpose in so long they’ve forgotten how.  He already knows it’s going to be hard to go home to an empty, broken house tonight.  He could stay with Chin while he’s fixing the place up but Chin’s just not who he wants to be around right now.  He wants Danny, and just Danny.

            Whether or not that’s as a drinking buddy or lover right now, well… it’s still up in the air.  Ideally he wants both.

            Their laughter quiets down and Steve reaches for the radio.  “I know I can.  And we did, back in the SEALs.  When those are the only people you share that sort of experience with, to say words that only that small, select group of people understands…”

            “It’s weirdly bonding, isn’t it?”  Danny’s quiet too, almost like he’s trying to parse out Steve’s thoughts.  “Trust me, I get it.”

            “And Nick… Nick was one of those.  We told each other a lot, shared a lot.  To just have that taken and used to an advantage, Danny…”  Steve clams up, absolutely refusing to let that line of thought go any further.  He doesn’t have to say it, not really – because Danny was there.  Watched him shoot Nick dead, lying in the sand on his own property.

            “Hey, hey, Steven, babe – don’t do that.”  Danny rests a hand on his knee and Steve freezes, as much from the sudden contact as the sheer _warmth_ of Danny’s skin.  Even through his pants its palpable, this incredible energy that by some sort of strange magic, starts to invade the coldness Steve’s feeling in his chest right now.

            When Danny doesn’t take his hand away, Steve manages to gather his thoughts up again and actually speak.  “I’d make a pretty shitty drinking partner for the evening, huh?”

            “Oh, you already are.  I just need you to be sober enough to tell me to stop drinking so we can drive home.”  Danny retracts his hand and puts it back on the wheel, leaving Steve to reel himself back in.  “Assuming you’re willing to do that.”

            “Yeah, I mean… unless you want to come back with me and start putting caulk in walls and sweeping up glass.”  God, he’s got to start making a list of the things he actually needs to repair the place.  Which means doing a full damage assessment, costs – like his line of work doesn’t have him stressed enough already.

            Danny’s oddly silent for a moment, his words coming out like he’s composing them as his lips move.  “You know, I can help.  Hate the thought of sending you back to a broken castle like some sort of monster from a fairy tale.”

            “That’s how you think of me?  So consumed by my own angst I can’t drive a nail into a wall?”  It’s an intriguing thought, working next to Danny, watching him sweat, bumping shoulders and _having_ to be close – so what if it means the work gets done faster.

            “No, I’m just saying that’s why the guys in these stories are so bad off – they don’t have friends Steve, much less ones who help them hang drywall.”

            Steve gives him a look of amusement, letting Danny talk himself more into the idea.

            “What, I read a lot of those to Grace when she was little – I’m a cop, it’s hard not to pull them apart and figure out what makes them tic.”

            “You were a delight in English class, weren’t you?”  Honestly, Steve could skip the beers.  He kind of wants to just grab a case from the corner mart and get right to work.  If anything, actually working on his problem would help put some of his more morose thoughts down.  Having Danny there would make the process even more bearable.

            “I am a delight anywhere – but yes, I contributed a lot to discussion.  The teachers either loved or hated me.”

            “Seems to be a common reaction.”  Steve waits for the verbal hailstorm of _how dare you I’m wonderful_ and sure enough, it comes, with Steve interjecting every now and then just to get a rise out of his partner.  It works all the way to Danny’s place for him to get appropriate home repair clothes, to the corner mart for beer and a couple of hot dogs for lunch, even when Steve calls up Kamekona for wood.

            How the hell Danny isn’t out of breath by the time they actually start hammering and sawing is beyond Steve, but he’ll take it.  There is one thing that Danny can’t talk over, however – power tools. 

            “I think we might need another extension cord – can you go look in the shed, Danno?”  All they’ve done is boarded up a couple of windows, both one beer in to the case and still enthusiastic enough about the process to not be on each other’s nerves yet. 

            Danny puts down his hammer and wipes his hand on his jeans – which he looks fantastic in, his slightly too short Hoboken PD t-shirt continually exposing his fuzzy belly.  “And you say you were in the Boy Scouts – aren’t you always supposed to be prepared there babe?”  Danny grins as he gets the key off the counter and heads outside.  Steve takes the chance to run upstairs and find something more comfortable to work in.  With the doors open as they go in and out, the air’s off and he’d rather be as cool as possible.

            Wearing a dark blue tank top upon return, he finds Danny bent over under one of the side tables, trying to get one of the plugs.  Steve helps by moving the table a couple inches to the left, hears a grumbled “thank you” and stands there, waiting for Danny to get up.

            “Hey, are you gonna – whoa.”  Danny’s look of astonishment is priceless upon seeing Steve’s lesser-clothed body.  “Welcome to the gun show, huh?”

            A ripple of pleasure warms Steve’s stomach, extending a hand to help Danny up off the ground.  “Yeah, yeah – figured it might be easier to work this way.  Kinda hot and everything.”

            Okay, so he holds onto Danny’s hand a moment longer than necessary – but Danny doesn’t exactly try to pull away.  “Careful Steve, looking like that I may not be able to control myself.”  He winks and lets Steve’s hand go, leaving him with just a memory of his rough, warm skin against his own.  He had been _this_ close to threading their fingers together and would you believe it, he swears he saw attraction in Danny’s eyes.  Sure you can complement a guy about his muscles without it meaning anything but Danny, well… he had looked like a man deprived of water and Steve was exactly the drink he needed…

            Steve cracks open another beer and hooks up his saw, intent on getting some work done.  Truly, thinking about his partner, his _work_ partner like this is dangerous.  They’ve finally started to settle into a good professional routine, one that Steve is wont to break up.  He needs Danny to stay like that without him getting carried away over just how incredible he looks, staunchly refusing to act on some of the fantasies he’s played out over the last months in his head.

            But Christ, it would just be so _easy_ right now to give Danny a look, hood his eyes and see what happens; Danny’s a damned good detective and above all, a single guy with a pulse.  While it’s never been brought up that he’s completely straight (Rachel aside) Steve just can’t help but want to find out.  Sometimes, a mouth’s a mouth and Steve would be so, so willing to provide.

            And it’s been a really, really long time since he’s kissed a guy properly.  There hasn’t been anyone aside from Catherine since he returned to The Big Island, and even she’s becoming a more distant memory so far as actual touch is concerned.  She’s on a giant aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean, thousands of miles away – Danny’s _right  there._

“Steve?”

            Steve perks up, looking up from the boards he’s been cutting.  “What’s up?”

            “Nothing, you just hadn’t moved in a while, figured you might want to start hammering more.”  He gestures to the pile of wood around to his left – he hadn’t even realized he’d been stacking it, so caught up in his thoughts that he had been on autopilot.

            He sees an opportunity and really, what kind of friend would he be if he didn’t take it.  “Think I’d rather nail _you_.”

            That look of astonishment returns, along with a moment of sputtering and blushing.  “What, are we in middle school again, huh?  No homo, or do you actually want to nail me.”

            Trust Danny to call his ass out on it.  “Aw, lighten up Danno – you know you want all of this.”  Steve transfers lumber over to his left hand and curls his right bicep, making sure all of his veins pop as well.

            Danny looks for a long, long moment, looking back and forth between Steve’s face and his arm, one flick of his gaze down his body – Steve would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t very quickly getting turned on right now.  He’s chipping away at Danny, that or Danny’s simply _very_ good at playing along.  Steve hopes against hope that it’s the former.

            “Just get back to work, McGarrett, or I’ll report you to the foreman.”  Danny turns around and gives his attentions to tearing out damaged drywall, leaving Steve with his thoughts again.

            It would so happen that driving nails into a wall would just make him think of Danny more, wouldn’t it?  He pretends not to notice the little glances Danny keeps directing towards him – for Danny’s sake.  Whom he shouldn’t even be wanting in the first place, but here they are.

            Steve can’t help but feel that at some point in the next couple of days, _something_ is going to go beautifully, wrongfully south with them.

___

            By sundown, most of the major damage is at least patched, if not totally fixed.  Steve wasn’t looking to do anything more today than render his house “liveable.”  Still, he keeps his shoes on just in case there’s some glass he missed, encouraging Danny to do the same.  The scent of gunpowder still lingers in the air, on his rugs and chairs.  He Febrezes as much as he can, counting on the air to eventually change out after he’s repaired the windows.  Once he sees the clock hit eight, he decides to call it a day.  He’s still sore from his fight with Nick, and his painkillers wore off some time ago.  Numbing it with beer hadn’t really worked but hell if he doesn’t have a nice buzz right now,  the kind that makes you want to seek out more warmth and multiply it by a thousand.

            Longingly, he looks at Danny’s back as he whips up some stir fry with the ingredients Steve had.  Pork isn’t his favorite but it’s what he’s got – but Danny promises he’s a wizard with the vegetables. 

            Steve opens another beer and sits down at his kitchen table, eyes on Danny’s form.  “You really didn’t have to cook me dinner too.”  (It’s not like Steve had exactly encouraged him to leave, either.)

            “Look, it’s better than what I’ve got at my place and since you aren’t paying me extra to help, I am at least going to help myself.  It just so happens there’s enough for you as well.”  Danny’s absolutely not serious, of course, but he still has to mask his concern somehow.  Something to remind Steve that they absolutely haven’t been giving each other _looks_ all day, the kind that approach eye fucking-levels of attraction.  Nor does Steve fellate the mouth of his beer bottle, hoping that Danny will turn around and “accidentally” catch him.

            Even if he has to duct tape his own mouth to keep himself from moaning later he’s going to have one _hell_ of an orgasm.  Watching Danny’s body move under that thin t-shirt has done absolutely nothing to curb his latent arousal.  Fuck, he might not even bother trying to mute himself, not when he actively wants Danny to participate and make that fantasy come true.

            “I like extra teriyaki on mine, babe, so be generous.”

            “10-4.”

            Danny’s actually quiet as he cooks, concentrating with an intensity  that Steve normally associates with police work, not dinner.  Danny’s focus is admirable, no matter what he’s doing.  The way he is with Grace, making her feel like she’s his whole world, comforting victims with this incredible wellspring of empathy – Steve could fall for that.  _Has_ fallen for it, if he’s being honest with himself.

            Steve’s got his beer pressed to his chin, fingers curled around it and lost in thought when Danny sets his plate down in front of him and touches his shoulder.  “Eat up, soldier, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

            “What makes you think we’re doing this again tomorrow?”

            Danny gestures around with his fork, talking through a mouth full of food.  “Hey, I can leave and let you do it all yourself-”

            “No!”  Steve’s surprised at how loud that was – come on McGarrett, get a fucking handle on it – “I mean, you… I want you to stay.  Because it’ll be easier if you’re already here instead of having to drive in the morning. Um.”   Steve’s just as red as the peppers Danny threw in with dinner, deliberately avoiding looking at his partner.  God, maybe drinking around him like this hadn’t been the best idea.

            Danny arches an eyebrow at him and nods.  “Yeah, that’s practical thinking there Steven.  Might be the first practical thought you’ve had in well, forever.  I like that.” 

            Steve breathes a sigh of relief and actually starts to eat.  “This is really good.”  Better than the diet of takeout and steak he normally survives on – _way_ better.

            “Yeah?”  Danny’s voice sound like he’s looking for approval – so Steve smiles and nods at him.

            “Yeah, definitely.  I never really had to learn how to cook, so… this is nice.  Really nice.”  He offers his beer bottle and they clink them together, the atmosphere lightening a little more and maybe, just maybe this will work.  What _this_ exactly is, Steve’s not exactly sure.  He’s dying to ask Danny so much but really, where and how does he start?

            Danny kind of makes the decision for him.

            “You know, I was serious earlier when you said you could be honest with me.  It’s just you and me, Steve, no one around to listen in.  If you want to let me in, then just… do it.  No judgments.”

            Fuck.

            Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck._

He’s got a decision to make – so he makes the wrong one, of course.  The safe thing to say, but not the one that’s eating at him to make known, to just get out and pray like _hell_ Danny’s in the same place he is.

            “It’s… you know, when we’re asked to protect and serve, you’re right – it’s never up to us as to whom that applies, right?  Because everyone deserves at least a chance.”  Steve puts his fork down and wipes his mouth, leaning forward over the table.  “It’s fucked up that we have to babysit a monster like Pak but…”

            “But there’s still an obligation.  A call to service, yeah?”  Danny’s hanging on to every word, so Steve keeps going. 

            “Exactly.  And Danny, I don’t want you to think of me any differently for saying this but what he ultimately decided to do – answering for his crimes like that – it takes so much goddamn _courage._ I admire that, because there are times – have been – when faced with that sort of decision, this massive, life-changing thing – I had to think about me, not others.  And I felt like shit.”

            Danny nods, reaching out a hand and putting it on Steve’s forearm.  “It’s human nature, babe, there’s no black-and-white process for making that sort of decision.  Anyone in our line of work knows that.  Your safety, their safety – it’s an incredibly difficult thing to balance.”

            “Yeah, but… it still doesn’t make it easier.  When Nick offered me a pay out, that opportunity – I had to think about it.  Rich beyond my wildest dreams, not having to put myself in front of bullets every day – I thought about it.  But…”

            “But you didn’t.  That’s what fucking matters Steve, you _didn’t._ ”  Danny’s hand slides down to his wrist, stroking his thumb over the soft skin, right over the vein.  “My respect doubled for you, you know that right?  And I know I run my goddamn mouth but Steve, there was a lot there before.”

            Steve finally makes eye contact with him and it’s there, that sort of understanding Danny had mentioned earlier, when there’s only one other person in the world who “gets it.”  It makes Danny’s eyes wide and deep, deep blue, making Steve’s breath stop in his chest.  “Danny, I…”

            “Shhh, Steve.”  He touches Steve’s face, cupping his cheek, rubbing his thumb over his temple.  “You don’t have to say anything else.”

            Doesn’t he?

            Steve swallows, Danny’s hand falling away from his face.  That single touch has his mind racing, his heart pounding loudly and the food in his stomach churning.  “Thank you.  Not just for listening but for… everything, okay?  Just… thank you.”

            “It’s what partners are for – and if  we’re still having feelings moments in the morning, we can blame the beer, huh?”  Danny tries for a smile and Steve can only return it half way, his body screaming, _craving_ more of Danny’s touch.

            Steve exhales, standing up and making his way to the sink for a glass of water.  “So – do you want the couch or Mary’s room tonight?”

            “Huh?”

            “Couch or Mary’s room for the night.  I mean, she has just a twin but you can probably fit on it, right?”  He downs that glass of water so fast he chokes a little, then immediately pours another.

            “Eh, I’ll think about it a little while.  Not quite bedtime yet, is it?”  Danny’s gone back to finishing his dinner; Steve couldn’t eat right now if he tried.

            “No, I guess not.”

            They’re mostly silent as they clean up the kitchen, Danny washing the dishes while Steve dries, their fingers brushing every now and then.  It would be so easy to just put an arm around Danny and pull him to his chest, tilt his chin up  and kiss those pink, pink lips.

            Instead Steve ensure his glasses are extra dry, putting them on the rack with a little too much care.  “Feel like a movie?  Sports?  Cards?”  He doesn’t want to go to bed yet, certainly not to be alone with his thoughts.

            “Movie’s fine – what have you got?”  Before Steve has the chance to speak, Danny interrupts.   “Wait, don’t tell me – you’ve only got war movies, don’t you?”

            “They’re a large part of my collection, yes.  Why, you have something against John Wayne?”

            “No, I just like movies without explosions better, since we deal with them on a daily basis.”

            “Well it’s either The Fighting Seabees or McClintock-”

            “McClintock, definitely.  You got any popcorn?”

            Trust Danny to be in the mood for more salt after he consumed an entire pan full of stir fry – with minimal contribution from Steve.

            Settled in with a big bowl of Orville Redenbacher and all the lights off, the opening credits of one of John Wayne’s finest comedies (in Steve’s opinion, anyway) roll over the miraculously undamaged tv screen.

            Somewhere between laughing too hard and more beer, Steve ends up with his arm on the back of the couch and the space between them down to just a couple inches, the popcorn long gone.  They’re drunk now, having surpassed buzzed a good while ago.  Steve feels like he’s floating, especially when Danny keeps grabbing his knee while laughing.  Danny’s got this incredible, goofy laugh and Steve ends up laughing more from listening to Danny than the movie.

            When it’s over (and between hiccups courtesy of trying to drink _while_ laughing) Danny tries to stand, only to fall back down onto the couch.  “Dude, I… I dun think my legs workin.

            “Sh, ‘s okay, mine do.”  Steve tries to do the same and fails, ending up sort of in Danny’s lap and halfway off the couch.  “Shit, sorry Danno.”

            “No, no it… it’s fine – but you gotta stay so you can tell me… tell me when mine start working, ‘k?”

            Steve nods, numb as can be and agreeable to most anything right at the moment.  “I can do that – you… you wanna brush your teeth or anythin’?”

            “No, no, I’m good – just… come back up here.”  Danny’s trying to stretch out and really, there is absolutely not enough room for the both of them on the couch but dammit, Steve’s drunken motivation is telling him to make it _work._

“I’m comin uh… what… what d’ya want me to do?”  Steve’s looking at Danny’s body, stretched out on his couch and looking exactly like something out of one of his fantasies – he can’t fuck this up, not now.

            “I… just c’mere, you need to rest.  I do too, maybe… lay here?  I guess?”  Danny rubs his chest and Steve’s gut tightens, climbing over and on top of Danny and doing as he says.  Danny’s heart is racing just as much as his own, maybe even more.

            “This is ridiculous, Danno.”

            “But good for you,  right?  Cause… good, soft touch, it helps.”  Danny put Steve’s left hand up on his shoulder so he can get his arm around him, trying to crowd in as much of him as possible.  Steve moves as little as possible, wanting to absorb as much of this as he possibly can, as there’s a very good chance he might not be able to again. 

            “Does help, doesn’t it?  You like this, Danno, uh.. the soft touching?  Cause if you wanna do it more…”  Steve’s glad he can’t see Danny’s face, because he’s sure they’re both as red as can be.  That and he doesn’t want to witness the probably trepidation in his eyes.  God, this is very quickly going from bad to worse and Steve honestly, one hundred percent doesn’t care.

            “Yeah, yeah I do just… yeah.” 

            Danny kisses him on the top of his head and that’s it, Steve can’t take anymore.  He picks his head up, ready to spill everything…

            Only to find Danny passed the hell out, dead to the world and everyone in it.

            Hey, at least it means he can’t move.

            And Danny Williams is absolutely the most comfortable pillow Steve has ever slept on and before long, he’s gone too, the gentle rise and fall of Danny’s chest lulling him into a deep, black sleep that from when he wakes in the morning, he hopes Danny is in the exact same place as before.

___

            Steve swears he hasn’t had a headache this bad in a long, long, _long_ time.  It’s hard to even open his eyes, much less stand to take care of his full bladder.  Hell, he’s so determined to make it to the bathroom upstairs that he doesn’t even notice Danny’s gone from the couch.

            Between the morning wood and massive piss he has to take, Steve struggles in getting  himself completely coordinated.  His mouth feels like cotton, his body aches from the still massive bruising and shit, shit, _shit_ he definitely thinks he came onto Danny last night.  He remembers cuddling, a kiss on the forehead…

            He’s so goddamn _boned._

Deciding he’s not going to deal with the world just yet, he showers, jerks off solely for the purpose of getting himself together (and pointedly _not_ thinking about Danny, who is still in his house and should not be subjected to Steve’s dirty mind when he’s a guest) and dresses in more housework appropriate clothing, fully ready to apologize for whatever he may have done to Danny last night-

            Except Danny isn’t there, the couch empty, as is the kitchen, downstairs bathroom, the driveway – which is even worse, because now, now Steve’s scared him off completely.  He wont’ want to be his partner anymore, Five-0 will be disbanded, and-

            “You like blueberry or chocolate chips in your pancakes, babe?”

            Danny strides into the kitchen, looking whole and healthy if a little red-eyed – so pretty much like Steve.   Relief makes Steve grip the counter for support, hoping it just comes off as effects of the hangover.

            “I thought…”

            “Thought what?”  Danny takes pancake mix out of the bag he’s clutching, along with a fresh pint of blueberries.  “Oh, about last night.”

            “Look, Danny, I’m sorry if I-”

            “Shhh, no no no, don’t do that, don’t, okay?  You are a very, very warm blanket and even if you are heavy and your couch _sucks_ after a night on it, it’s the best I’ve slept in a while.  Just being honest, right?  It’s a two way street, pal.”

            Steve honestly doesn’t have a reply to that, so he dares to take a step closer to Danny, his hangover quickly being replaced by lucid thought.  “You… enjoyed that?”

            “Yeah, so what?  You think a little bit of cuddling with your partner is going to shatter the whole macho image you try to cultivate?  Don’t think so, Steve, that seems pretty indestructible to me.”

            Steve’s brow furrows, doing his best to fully process what Danny’s getting at.  “What, so you think we should start incorporating platonic cuddling into our routine as well?”

            “I thought it was good, right?  And you feel better, a little less… hollow?”

            Aside from the pounding in his head that’s still working on subsiding, Steve has to admit that he _does_ feel better.  “Yeah, alright, let’s do it.  I say we block off an hour a day – but I think you’d work better as a little spoon.”

            Danny brandishes his spatula like a nun scolding a child with a ruler, waving it about like he’s about to smack Steve.  “Only if you agree to let me know before hand if you’re going to take advantage of me – I am _not_ that kind of girl.”

            Steve kind of wants the floor to swallow him up right now, because it’s a little hard to tell if Danny’s joking or being serious.  “I… I need to go check and see how much wood we have left.”

            In Steve’s case, it’s quite a lot.  Danny’s set his blood to coursing again and he has to seriously consider rubbing another one out in the shed before he comes back in the house to coffee and pancakes.

            Breakfast manages to go by without any further mishap, with Danny perusing the local paper and Steve commenting as needed.  He’s still got his mind wrapped around last night, this morning – all of it.  And the more Danny talks, the more Steve thinks about his mouth, how ridiculously wonderful it would be to kiss him right now, just to see if his lips taste as good as he looks.

            He kind of wishes he was drunk again so that maybe he could fire his impulses to just _do it_ into action.  Instead he chugs the rest of his coffee and stands, making his way to the living room to get everything hooked back up.

            “Hey, do you want me to go get more nails?  I noticed we didn’t have many left.”  Danny follows him out of the kitchen, a coffee mug still in hand.  “Unless you’ve got more somewhere else.”

            Maybe getting Danny out of the room for a minute will give him more time to form a plan of action – not for his house, but for Danny.  “Yeah, try the garage – middle shelf on the left.”  Hell if he knows that there are actually any sitting on that shelf, but Danny doesn’t know that.

            “On it.”

            When Danny doesn’t come back for a few minutes, Steve starts to get a little concerned.  Right as he stops sawing the board he’s working on, he hears Danny call for him.  Walking into the garage, he doesn’t actually see him there, but the dust on the workbench has been disturbed, so he was _literally just here._

“Danny?”

            Steve gets spun around and all of a sudden, he’s pinned to the trunk of the Marquis, Danny’s body pressed up against his and fuck, holy _fuck he’s pulling Steve’s face towards his and-_

“Just give me two seconds and then you can punch me if you want, but I gotta try and do something about that mopey-ass look on your face.”

            Steve didn’t hear a word he said, because his blood is rushing in his ears _and Danny is fucking kissing him like his life goddamn depends on it._

It’s wild, frantic, desperate even – but Steve follows suit very, very quickly, getting his hands on Danny’s body and keeping them pulled together.  Danny goes for his chest, rubbing his pecs and traveling up to his shoulders, groping his biceps like he’s been waiting for a lifetime to do it.  Steve’s also finding he can’t get enough of Danny’s tongue, sucking at it with enough fervor that he’s afraid he’ll accidentally bite him.

            If Danny notices, he doesn’t clue Steve in.  In fact, he’s trying to push Steve _up_ the car’s trunk and lay him out over the back windshield – if they’re going to do this, Steve really wishes it were somewhere else than here.

            Danny breaks the kiss, his mouth and breath hot on Steve’s lips.  “If you’re having second thoughts about this, speak now, because if not I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you right here and use oil to do it.”

            Is it sad that Steve seriously considers letting him do just that?  Probably not – Steve’s beat off out here enough times to the thoughts of Danny bending him over the workbench that one more wouldn’t hurt.

            “Bed. Now.”  Steve gives him another searing kiss and shoves Danny out the doorway towards the house, never letting him get more than a step in front of him.  He touches what he can, stopping every few feet to remove one more piece of clothing, both of them shirtless by the time they get out of the kitchen.  Holy _shit_ Danny is hair, covered in dark blonde that traps his scent in this really incredible way.  Steve wants to bury his face in it, inhale and inhale until he’s drunk off of it – but there’s time for that later, if the way they’re molesting each other is any sort of indication.

            They’re down to just underwear when they reach the bedroom, and Steve falls back across the bed and scoots up as Danny comes down on him, pinning his arms above his head and kissing him with that same sort of immolating passion from the garage.  Steve tries to scale it back but fuck, he’s got Danny in his fucking bed and he’s shaking with how badly he wants it, their cocks rubbing together through their boxer briefs –that has to stop _now._

“Naked,” Steve commands and shit, holy _fucking_ shit Danny’s cock is massive, looking even bigger on his small frame.  He’s uncut like Steve too, his foreskin long and drooling with precome.  Steve can’t help but reach for it, _needing_ to commit its feeling to memory.

            “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this, Steve, just… I didn’t want to do anything last night.  I don’t make a habit of fucking drunk guys.”  Danny moans as Steve slides his thumb under his foreskin, smearing his precome around inside it.  He wants to hear it again, so Steve presses in a little harder.

            “Trust me, I would have let you.  Danny, you… you don’t know what you do to me.”  Steve brings him in for another kiss, getting his hands on Danny’s body and exploring its dips and curves, scritching his fingernails over the little catches of his muscles.  It just makes Danny kiss him that much harder, ready to take whatever Steve want to give him.

            “Think I have an idea but… we can go slow later.  I was serious about the fucking part. You got lube and shit?”

            Steve points towards his left bedside table.  “Top drawer.”

            After five minutes of the most intense fingering and making out that Steve’s ever experienced later and Danny’s bare cock is sliding into him, reassured that they’re both clean and Danny could have used a condom if he wanted.  Honestly, Steve wants it this way.  He can’t stand the thoughts of not being wholly consumed.

            “You are fucking _tight.”_ Danny’s got a death grip on Steve’s hips, pulling and making their bodies fit together.  “ _Insanely_ tight.”

            Steve grunts as Danny fully seats himself, his hole stretched widely enough that tears leak from his eyes.  “Wasn’t… fuck, Danny, why were you holding out on me?”  Steve has to shove an extra pillow under his ass, making the angle a little more bearable.       

            Danny bends down for a kiss, lifting Steve’s head to his so that they don’t break their connection.  “Why don’t we discuss that after, huh?  Right now…”

            Steve absolutely isn’t ashamed to admit he moans like a whore as Danny starts fucking him.  They move slow at first, Danny going slowly to let Steve get used to just how goddamned _thick_ he is but picking up speed soon after.  There isn’t a bit of Steve that doesn’t move as their bodies collide over and over, the bruising on his ribcage playing second fiddle to the delicious burn of Danny’s cock inside him.   Every nerve is on fire, Steve’s cock laying thick and hard against his belly and absolutely pouring precome, - when he touches it he has to bite his lip to stop from coming.

            “Close, babe?”  Danny seeks out Steve’s tongue again, asking and answering his own question.  Steve’s toes are curled in so hard on themselves he’s starting to cramp, legs thrown up and around Danny’s body. 

            Steve bites his way out of the kiss, head turned and practically yelling.  “Danny, babe, I’m… I’m not gonna last much longer.”

            “Want you to come for me, Steven, make a mess of that hot fucking body, yeah?”  Danny’s mouth obviously has no goddamn off switch – leaving Steve with no choice but to follow orders.

            He comes completely untouched and in spite of jerking off in the shower earlier, paints himself all the way up to his chin.  Spurt after spurt makes his dick jump, Danny still fucking away at him like a machine, finding his prostate on every thrust.  Steve ends up screaming himself hoarse, winding up with come in his mouth.

            “God, Steve, don’t fucking _move.”_ Danny pulls out and in a second is feeding the head of his cock to Steve, giving him about two seconds to actually suck him properly before Steve’s swallowing/choking on what has to be the biggest fucking load he’s ever taken.  He doesn’t back down in the slightest, already excited at the prospect of getting his mouth properly on Danny.

            When he’s finished, Danny flops down next to him, dick throbbing with aftershocks and giving them five seconds before he starts to laugh.  Steve laughs with him, screwing his eyes closed and rolling over onto his partner, trying to kiss him through the hard spasms of mirth that threaten to hurt him even further. 

            “So… two questions.”  Steve finally manages a whole sentence between sharing come with Danny and making his laughter subside.  “One, how long have you been wanting to do that to me?”

            “Since a week after we met?  Steve, your goddamn _mouth_ needs to just… not.  I mean the rest of you as well, but especially your mouth.  I think that’s the first time I ever came mostly from kissing.”  Danny swipes a thumb over his lips and pulls Steve back down for another long, steamy kiss, a lot less frantic but full of all kinds of promises that Steve absolutely believes will be fulfilled.        

            “You really like my mouth _that_ much?”  Steve licks his lips, tasting more of Danny because he fucking _can._

“Yeah, I do – but it’s not just that. A pain in the ass you might be but… Steve…”

            “I know, Danny – me too.”  More of that understanding, right?  It’s not all bad stuff.  “Second question.”

            “All ears, babe.”

            “Do you _really_ want to help me finish fixing the place up and then leave, or are you down to help and then… not go. I know it’s premature but… I want you here.  With me.  After last night I don’t think I’m capable of kicking you out.”

            Danny pauses for a thought, wiping a drop of sweat from Steve’s temple.  “The with you part, I’m down for – but give me a while before I actually start moving stuff around, okay?  This is gonna be an adjustment, and not just for us, you know?”

            Steve nods, getting completely what Danny’s going after.  “Yeah, I do – but since I can’t exactly walk right now…” He wiggles his lower body, pretty sure that sitting down isn’t going to be possible for at least a week.  Doesn’t mean he can’t get off again though – he _definitely_ wants to explore more of that “coming just from kissing” thing Danny mentioned.

            “Guess home repair will have to wait, won’t it?”

            Steve supposes that, yes, it will.

           


End file.
